


all my dreams and all the lights (mean nothing without you)

by SUPERNYMPH



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Arguing, Begging, Christmas, Christmas-y sort of but not really?, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Marriage, Victor Nikiforov's Foot Fetish, dID someone say FESTIVE PORN??? YEAh??, rough patch, sexual crying, v gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 12:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13123608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SUPERNYMPH/pseuds/SUPERNYMPH
Summary: Viktor and Yuuri hit a rough patch.





	all my dreams and all the lights (mean nothing without you)

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually late bc somehow christmas snuck up on me!!’ you know those kinks you don’t really mean to acknowledge but you end up doing it anyway? yeah? yeah.
> 
> oh also, there’s a consensual “no” in there, in case that makes you uncomfortable
> 
> find me here: urtriei.tumblr.com

It’s quiet that gets them first.

 _‘New marriages are like this sometimes,’_ Yuuri tells himself.

Except, their marriage isn’t so new anymore. It’s been a year and then some, though some of time feels like longer and other times it feels like shorter.

Yuuri can’t pinpoint the moment it happened, not really anyway. But they’re silent around each other now.

They spend days existing in each other’s presence. There, but not really. It isn’t the way it was. Before, they understood each other. They had space. They had unspoken boundaries. They could be silent and distant and everything would be fine. But now it’s suffocating. Its a wedge between them. Yuuri doesn’t know when it happened— how it happened. Was it after the move? Yuuri hadn’t been thrilled about their new apartment at first, spacious and lavish and not at all _him_ , but he’d warmed up in time. Had it been the talk? After Viktor decided that it was time to step off the ice. After Yuuri was angry. After Viktor was angry right back. After it seemed like they came to an understanding. Maybe they didn’t. Maybe they hadn’t said all they needed to say. Maybe the words they had evaporated and now they were left with the silence.

They don’t cook together anymore. Before the move, Yuuri usually cooked while Viktor chopped the vegetables and watched him. They’d sneak pieces of the food from the pan and scold one another when they were caught. They’d share a cup of wine before Viktor caved in and grabbed another glass. They’d laugh over their meal, holding hands across the table.

They don’t shower or bathe together anymore. They don’t follow each other into the bathroom in the morning, stripping off their clothes, kissing sloppily and happily hands all over each other. They don’t lead one another to the tub in the evening, when the suns just set. Drawing hot baths and relaxing against each other, taking turns to wash each other’s hair.

Even when they have sex now, it’s quieter, not exactly the way it was.

Yuuri knows that Viktor is having a hard time. Yuuri had suggested that he coaches, _for real._ But Viktor just gave him a long stare then quietly looked away.

Quietly.

And one day, the silence went away. In its place came the arguments.

It was little things at first. It was the little things that got to Viktor.

“Yuuri I am going to be late, I can’t wait for you.”

“Please just wash the dish after you use it Viktor.”

“Did you walk him?”

“It’s your turn.”

“It’s _yours_.”

There were cold stares. Brief distant touches. None of it was— them. Hollowness swells up in Viktor’s throat and he pushes it back down. _‘That’s alright,’_ Viktor thinks, _‘Sometimes we don’t agree.’_

Except, they never agree anymore.

They don’t agree on dinner. They don’t agree on what to watch on TV. So they start doing those things separately. Yuuri eats at the rink. Viktor eats at home. Yuuri watches TV on his phone. Viktor watches in the living room. They move around each other, like they’re bombs waiting to go off. These days, anything can trigger a disagreement. Anything.

The silence had been replaced with tension, a raging storm of tension. A ticking bomb of tension that goes off over and over and over again.

It’s ground teeth and bruised palms from clenched fists and words that bite, but never enough to bleed. Just to sting for a few days. It’s not how this was supposed to be.

It’s only been a year. And then some. How could this have happened?

Viktor would give whatever for things to be the way they one were. But he doesn’t know how to get past this. He’s never dealt with this before. He’s never been with someone like this before.

His first instincts tell him to run. But he could never do that to Yuuri. Never.

So he stays. Fingers twitching, skin itching, he stays. Until his mouth fills with a stale and bitter taste threatening to slip from his tongue every time he watches Yuuri get dressed. To see _him_.

Yuuri has met someone. A Skater. Sven. He’s a little younger than him, and extremely talented. He skates at the rink as well and reminds Yuuri of the skater his husband once was. But Sven’s also funny. And nice. Yuuri’s friend list in St. Petersburg is short, so he’s grateful for the company. They eat at the rink together and skate together and talk between their breaks.

Viktor notices. Everyone notices.

Yuuri didn’t think it was problem. He hangs out with his other rink mates too. Viktor has never been one for jealously, or so he thought. Besides, isn’t this what Viktor wanted? For Yuuri to feel more at home? He’s making a friend. It should be fine. Everything should be fine.

But it’s not. Because, Yuuri is packing up to go to the rink when he hears,

“You’re skating with Sven?”

“What?” Yuuri calls from the bedroom, he’s only barley heard what Viktor has said.

Viktor’s footsteps sound as he walks towards their door. “Sven. You’re skating with him.”

“Oh, yeah.” Yuuri shrugs. “We’re going to practice together.”

Yuuri leaves the apartment with a quick “Goodbye!” thrown over his shoulder. Viktor stares at the door for a long time. He doesn’t want to feel this way. How can he not? He’s spotted them in practice, skating. Laughing. Agreeing on food after. Sven is young. Much younger than Viktor. He’s attractive, that’s for sure. Yuuri wouldn’t do that to him though. At least... not on purpose.

Viktor wills the thought away. Yuuri loves him. Things are rough right now, but that doesn’t mean that Yuuri doesn’t love him. He trusts him. He will not become this person.

“Do you want to fuck him?” Viktor asks, later that night sitting up against the headboard.

Yuuri had already laid down for the night and was cuddled up in the sheets, tossing and turning trying to find a good sleeping position. The question causes him to still, then turn to face his husband. “Viktor— what.”

“Sven.” He says. “Yes or no.” Yuuri is sitting up now, arms crossed, cheeks deeply flushed.

“I’m not allowed to have friends?” He asks, angrily.

This is what pisses Viktor off.

Viktor chortles darkly. “His hands were all over you.” As if he’s to believe they’re just friends. Maybe Yuuri is, but Sven definitely is not. Viktor remembers the the session he’d peaked in on today. How Sven’s hands circled around his waist, gripped his hip as they positioned for the lift, the look in his eye when he set him back down, how his fingers lingered a bit as they parted.

Viktor was _this_ close to going out on the ice. But Yakov had banned him from rink ever since he’d started showing up just to mope under the guise of supporting former rink mates. Luckily, he hadn’t been caught. He’d been in and out before anyone had seen him.

Yuuri huffs and clenches his teeth. He _knew_ he saw Viktor earlier. What is he, spying on him now? He doesn’t trust him? He and Sven practiced a _lift_ , a freaking lift that’s nothing compared to how touchy-feely Viktor is with _literally everyone else_. “And your hands are all over anyone you meet.”

Viktor whines from the lack of air in his chest. He hadn’t know that words from Yuuri’s mouth could wound. Yuuri’s eyes soften. He goes to bring his hand out, to touch, to feel, to say, “I’m sorry.” But Viktor lies down before either of them can say anything else.

  
The GRAND PIX FINALE comes and goes. Not that it wasn’t uneventful, it definitely was. Phichit finally won the gold he deserved. Yuuri placed in third. It wasn’t his best. He’d tried, really hard too, but he could’ve been better.

He heads back home with a deep apprehension tugging at his core.

It was already December and things between them hadn’t gotten any better. Yuuri was starting to worry. It’d been weeks since the Sven argument and they’d gone back to The Silence.

And in the silence, Yuuri was left to ponder. When had they start to fall asleep with their backs turned? When did the kisses in the beginning of the day, between meals, at the end of the night, stop? When had their apartment started to feel much, much bigger than it already was?

Would things ever be the same again?

The visit to Hasetsu wasn’t planned at all actually. They hadn’t even discussed it. Yuuri talked to his parents sometimes, but not as often as he’d like. He wasn’t very good at keeping in touch these days.

But there was a gap in Yuuri’s schedule. And they hadn’t been back in a while. And with just a few words exchanged (“We haven’t seen your parents in a while.” “I know.”), the tickets were booked and their bags were packed and together they boarded the plane to Japan.

  
The sleepy town is covered in ice, much like Russia at this time of year.

Hiroko throws the door open in gleeful surprise. Their impromptu trip and arrival had been kept a secret, or as much as a secret could be kept in Hasetsu, but they’d managed to make it just in time for the holidays.

The first night was spent at Yuuri’s parents house with Yuuko and Takeshi and the triplets. They’ve all gotten bigger and slyer if possible.

They’ve lost all their baby teeth now.

It’s a small thing, but it takes up all the space in Yuuri’s mind.

The triplets decorate gingerbread houses and take turns cuddling Makkachin as the snow falls delicately outside. Yuuri sits with Yuuko in front of a fire, nursing a cup of his mother’s tea.

“How is married life, Yuuri?” Yuuko asks.

“Good.” Yuuri says, but it’s distant.

She notices it and reaches over to place her hand over his. “The first year is the hardest.”

He nods. _‘That’s what I said.’_ “I know. I just didn’t expect it to be like that for...” _‘For us.’_

She cups his hand and frowns. Yuuri looks over his shoulder. Viktor is playing around with the triplets. He’s laying on his back taking turns to balance them in the air on his the palms of his feet.

“You...” Yuuko guides his attention back to her. She inhales softly, but audibly, “Yuuri, you have to remember that sometimes you are very guarded.”

“I know...” He looks away.

“You’re married now. You have to open up, especially when you don’t want to. Or it won’t work.”

That’s definitely easier said than done. He’s so scared. He knows that Viktor would never reject him, but these days it’s hard to tell.

He thinks he needs space. Not him, but Viktor. Actually, maybe they both do...

Maybe they need space.

Viktor and Yuuri retire late into the night. They’d sang and baked and ate until their eyes dripped low. It was time to end the night for sure when the triplets started to fall asleep on top of each other. They’d walked the family to the door, bidding farewells. “Goodbyes,” last longer when you’re older, Yuuri notices, even if you know you’ll see the person again really soon.

Yuuri’s parents excuse theirselves up to their room soon after, leaving Yuuri and Viktor to thread down the hallway where one may say, it all started.

It all started here, everything. Ice Castle is where he fell for skating. The privacy of his room is where he fell for Viktor. Both times.

But this isn’t what they need right now. They need space. They need time. Viktor needs it. Yuuri needs it. This has to be done.

Yuuri scratches the back of his head. “I’ll be going then.” He makes a gesture to his old bedroom.

Viktor nods jerkily. _‘No,’_ he should say, _‘Lay with me.’_ Viktor’s chest tightens as he releases the word, “Okay.”

And Yuuri’s chest tightens right back. “Okay.”

It’s not supposed to be like this.

  
The next morning Viktor wakes to the sound of laughing. He stumbles out of his bed and presses his ear to his door. It’s Yuuri’s laugh. Why does it feel like it’s been so long since he last heard it?

He leaves his room once he’s decent, pausing when the familiar laughs rings through the halls again.

Viktor leans his ear against Yuuri’s door.

“Haha! That is true!”

“Oh sure, sure!”

“Happy holidays to you too Sven! See you when I get back.”

There’s some shuffling and Viktor rushes back into his room. He hears Yuuri open his door and step out. He pauses in the hall right next to Viktor’s door then threads forward.

At breakfast, Yuuri takes the time to catch up with his mother. He’s on the off season so he isn’t being too careful about what he eats. His hips are just a little softer and cheeks a little rounder. It’s not noticeable at all, but Viktor notices. Viktor thinks he’s beautiful.

Viktor watches Yuuri from across the table, his hand itching to take his just the way he used to. Touch him, the way he used to. Kiss him, the way he used to.

It’s time to make a change...

“Yuuri,” He says, once Hiroko excuses herself. “Lets get lunch.”

 _‘It’s still breakfast,’_ that’s the first thing Yuuri thinks. But it’s so very Viktor that he bites his lip, holding back a toothy smile and says, “Okay.”

Viktor fights a smile back. “Okay.”

Lunch does not go, _‘Okay.’_

“You spend all your time with him!” Viktor sneers from across the table. They’ve gotten some of the attention from other customers around them.

Yuuri throws a tense look around the room before leaning in, “Viktor it’s not like that.” He hisses.

 _It’s not like that._ Viktor could fall out laughing, dying. Perhaps his eyes deceive him? His ears too? He looks at Sven, talks to Sven, _touches_ Sven like... “What’s it like then?”

“We’re friends!” Yuuri exclaims, hands coming down on the table, rattling the cups. They get silent. Yuuri pinching the bridge of his nose, Viktor sulking with his arms crossed. “You’re overreacting.”

His next words taste bitter and stale in mouth but roll off him tongue nonetheless, “You’re so fucking oblivious.”

Yuuri stills, then looks away. “I would like to leave now.”

  
That night was supposed to be “Girls Night Out” but Yuuri was somehow roped into it (“Designated driver,” Mari had said, except, they took a taxi?) and Viktor is stolen away by Toshiya and Takeshi to play Karuta which Viktor does not know how to play at all. He mostly nurses a cup of warm Saké and watches the two men play, placing cards out back and forth.

Yuuri comes back tipsy. Actually, a little more than tipsy. The girls drop him off in Viktor’s arms then speed away yelling goodbyes from the cab’s window. His cheeks are warm and flushed as Viktor drags him to his door. He’s managing to relive the night before collapsing into the bed and passing out. Something about “strippers” and “poor poor Yuuko.”

He wakes up fifteen minutes later when Viktor is trying to get him cleaned up and into a clean shirt for bed. Yuuri holds his arms up while Viktor slips the shirt off and finds a new one.

“You’re so good to me.” Yuuri mutters. Only, he says it in Japanese. Viktor hums nonetheless. “So good. Viktor.”

“Yes, love?”

“What’s happening to us?” It’s in English this time and Viktor has just managed to wiggle Yuuri out of his jeans when he says it. He looks up at the man then looks back down.

Viktor cleans him up without another word and puts him to bed then climbs in after him. He wants to take him into his arms, hold him close, burry his nose into his hair, the way he used to before— this. All of this.

Viktor moves close. Just close enough to feel the body heat from Yuuri. His nose is snuggled against the pillow, he can smell the same shampoo Yuuri has used since they met.

He wants to touch him. He wants to feel him again. He doesn’t want this. He pulls his hand up, to stroke his cheek but Yuuri groans and turns his back and settles into the other side of the bed.

Viktor flops back and stares at the ceiling.

_What’s happening to us?_

  
“Vicchan,” Hiroko says the next morning just as Viktor exists his room. “Tea, yes?”

Viktor nods and sits while she sets him up with a cup of tea then sits across from him. Yuuri’s like Hiroko in this way. When he senses that something is wrong he won’t pressure you to talk, but he’ll leave the door open just in case you want to.

“I think...” Viktor starts as he wrings his hands together. “Things are...”

“Yuuri?”

He nods and looks down, warming his hands on the glass cup in front of him.

“Mm.” She hums and nods. “The first year is like that sometimes.”

“How do I...” He trails. How does he make it better? How does he take back every bad thing he said? How does he clean up this mess they’ve become? “How do I... How do I fix it?”

“Fix what you can first, make time for the rest.” Hiroko smiles, warmly. Fix what he can. What can he fix? Everything, he supposes. Right? But what to start with? Viktor isn’t good at these types of things. But he’ll try. He’ll try because he loves Yuuri, just as Yuuri loves him. They can get past this. They have time for the rest. “Understand?” Hiroko cups his hand in hers and squeezes.

Viktor squeezes back. “Yeah. I think I understand.”

Yuuri wakes up groggily and reluctantly, but he’s not hungover, _‘Thank god.’_ There’s a cup of water next to the bed Yuuri figures is for him.

That’s when he realizes that he’s slept in Viktor’s bed.

‘ _God damn it! What happened to space?!’_

Viktor comes back into the room at that point then pauses like he forgot Yuuri was there. The door closes softly behind him. Viktor stands at the foot of his bed, staring Yuuri down.

Yuuri tries for a smile, but it fails.

“How do you feel?” Viktor sits.

“Like I stayed up drinking all night.”

Viktor wants to touch his cheek. So he does. It’s warm and soft and Viktor could cry he misses him so much. Yuuri is taken back at first but leans into the touch then brings his hand up to cup Viktor’s. They sit for a while, just staring at each other.

“I miss you.” Viktor says.

“I’m right here.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Viktor...”

“I’m sorry.” He swallows. “For all of it. For being distant and jealous and ugly.”

“You’re not ugly.”

“I acted that way.”

“I know. But you’re not ugly.” Yuuri scoots closet to him and cups his hands around his neck. “You’re kind. You’re beautiful.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” Yuuri pulls him close, shutting his eyes tightly. “I could’ve... I was distant too. We both said things...”

Viktor wraps his arms around his waist and nuzzles his nose into his neck. “Sven is only a friend?”

“Yes.” Yuuri pulls away. “Viktor, how could you think—“

“No,” He says quickly. “No, I trust you. I just... With the way I have been acting... I wouldn’t blame you...”

“No Viktor.” Yuuri says, “Yes, your behavior was... Less than satisfactory. But I married you. All of you. For better, for worse.”

Viktor softly bumps his forehead against his. “I love you.” He whispers, like it’s something sweet and private. Then he sits up a little straighter, “I think he has a crush on you.”

“Viktor—“

“But I trust you.” He says quickly. “And I love you. And if you say there’s nothing then...”

“Then...?” Yuuri raises an eyebrow.

Viktor drums his fingers against Yuuri’s hip. “Then I guess.... Theres... Nothing...”

Viktor kisses him again. He loves him. He trusts him. With all his heart. But it’s so hard for him to fight this feeling. This ugly, harsh feeling.

“By the way...” Yuuri smiles, once they break the kiss. “Happy birthday.” His smile turns nervous and excited as he reaches under the bed and pulls out a wrapped present Viktor hadn’t even known it was there. “It was the one place I knew you wouldn’t look.”

“Oh Yuuri,” Viktor grasps the perfectly box with a gold ribbon on top. “I love it.”

“You didn’t open it yet.” Yuuri chuckles.

“I love it.” He repeated.

Yuuri giggles and elbows him softly. “Open it.”

Viktor isn’t even trying to contain his excitement. He peels away the bow and opens the lip. Inside, under tons and tons of tissue paper is...

It’s a glass figurine. Shaped like ice skater and... it looks just like Viktor. It’s just big enough to be an ornament on a tree, but just small enough to fit in his pocket. And the detail. God, it’s so detailed. The curve of his face, one of his old costumes worn in his later skating days, and—

A small medal, around its neck.

“Yuuri...” Viktor gasps.

“It’s handmade.” _‘From Italy,’_ Yuuri doesn’t add. He’d put in the oder for it months ago, and wanted to give it to Viktor the moment it came in the mail. But he saved it for his birthday. Yuuri touches it lightly, fingers dancing along the glass and Viktor turns to him.

Viktor kisses him slow and sweet, dreading the moment they break apart. This is the man is choose, this is the love of his life.

It’s Christmas Day and while neither of them really celebrate Christmas, everyone (The Nishigori family, Minako) comes over for food and drinks and overall to spend time with the couple before they’re back to Russia.

Presents are exchanged, mostly for the sake of the children. Although, after everything is done Yuuri finds a box on his bed. Viktor’s already given him multiple presents (despite it being _his_ birthday) so he doubts it’s from him. He opens the red box to find...

 _‘Oh god.’_ Yuuri closes it immediately. Then peaks it open slightly and shuts it again. All he sees is red and lace and fur. But he knows what it is and who exactly it’s from. _‘Yuuko.’_ He recalls the night they got drunk and he commented on one of the strippers outfits. _‘I was joking!’_

  
“Let’s skate.”

“Hmm?” Yuuri has just woken up from a nap. It was more of a food coma after the endless treats and meals. Viktor is softly dragging his fingers against the exposed flesh of Yuuri’s hip where his shirt has ridden up.

“Yuuri.” He says, “Let’s skate.”

“Tomorrow?” Yuuri mumbles.

The headboard moves as Viktor shakes his head. “No, now.”

Yuuri opens his eyes fully now and turns to face him. “We can’t skate now.”

“Why not?” He asks, eyes wild and pale and blue, reflecting the moonlight.

“Ice Castle is closed.” Yuuri reasons.

“Okay.”

“It’s _closed_.” Yuuri stretches.

“Okay.” Viktor stares at him and Yuuri tries to fight back a smile.

  
Breaking into Ice Castle isn’t hard because it’s not breaking in when you have a set of keys.

The ice is as inviting as he last remembered. The rink he grew up on. He’s skated, and he’s fallen. He’s cried and bled on this ice. Every dream, every hope, every plea for greatness. It’s all here.

And now, so is Viktor.

He’s on the ice, skating like he’s setting up for a jump. His jumps still take his breath away. It’s a reminder of his strength, of the gold band around Yuuri’s finger.

It’s a promise. It’s forever.

Yuuri steps out into the ice just as Viktor lands his jump. They don’t need to speak here. The silence, the tension, the bitterness. It can not reach them here. They’re untouchable on the ice.

They leave later stepping into the cold. Yuuri pulls his scarf a little tighter. Viktor grabs his gloved hands between his own and rubs them warm.

  
They eat again when they get back, though it’s late. Skating builds an appetite. Yuuri’s parents are asleep so it’s up to Yuuri to fix something to eat.

“Katsudon! Katsudon!” Viktor suggests. And so Yuuri makes it.

The first night was quiet and content surrounded by family. The second was less than that. But their third night, the night where Yuuri and Viktor inhaled Katsudon and cuddled with Makka in front of a fire, sharing a bottle of Sake Toshiya left out, that’s the night that does it.

They talk. They talk about stupid stuff like gay aliens and the undead hosting parties. They laugh, with their heads tilted back, too loud and too obnoxious, shushing each other with hands over their mouths.

They’re laying on the floor now, warm with liquor and giggly and breathing into each other’s mouths.

Their eyes rank over each other, like they’re seeing one another for the first time all over again. The only sounds now are their breathing and the light crackling of the fire.

Viktor kisses him first.

Leans into until their noses bump and pushes his lips to his.

When was the last time they kissed? When was the last time it felt like this?

Viktor drags his hand across Yuuri’s chest, feeling him breathe, his heart against his chest. He’s struck with feeling.

_‘I love you. I love you. I love you.’_

_‘I could never lose you.’_

It feels like time is dripping like honey, slow and sweet. They’re filled with hazy affection. Hands roaming each other.

Viktor straddles his waist, hands on his cheeks. Yuuri’s hands find their way to his waist and squeeze.

“We should bathe in the onsen.” Viktor whispers.

“First breaking into the Ice Castle now the onsen,”

Viktor huffs out a laugh, then leans in for another kiss. Yuuri opens up under him, softly moaning into his mouth.

Viktor wants to take him apart, piece by piece. Forget the onsen.

  
Getting to the bedroom takes some work. Neither of them want to get up from their spot on the floor.

The fire is put out, the dishes put away and then they’re on the bed in Viktor’s old room from all that time ago, kissing the way they did then.

“Wait...” Yuuri pauses. It takes a moment to untangle from Viktor’s limbs. When he does, he rests his hands on his thighs and tries to ignore the warmness in his cheeks. “Wait, just a moment.” He swallows.

Yuuri steps out and into his room. He eyes the box on the bed.

Fifteen minutes and two pep talks later, Yuuri steps back into Viktor’s room in a robe. Viktor arches an eyebrow in question, then opens his mouth to ask but the question dies on his tongue when Yuuri opens the robe and shrugs it off.

Standing before him is Yuuri in lingerie. It’s a red lace baby doll with a fur trimming along the cleavage with a small thong that hides absolutely nothing. And if that isn’t enough, he’s paired it with thigh high black socks, tight and knit, gripping his oh so wonderful thighs.

Viktor sinks to his knees in front of him, nose rubbing into his stomach, lowering to his crotch. The panties are red and silky, they’re cool and smooth to the touch. The black socks curve around his thighs, they’re sheer and soft and Viktor wants to swallow him whole.

“Sit down.” Viktor says, voice clouded with want.

As soon as Yuuri sits on the bed and Viktor’s mouth is on him, on his lips, neck, down his chest to his abdomen, tonguing a hot wet trail down, sucking at his nipples, nipping at his stomach.

His kisses trail to his thighs, biting them. Yuuri yelps. Viktor nuzzles his leg and hoists it up till it’s draping over his shoulder. He peels off a sock, tongue tracing down the exposed skin till it’s completely off. Yuuri reaches to touch himself.

“No,” Viktor says, grasping his hands. “Not yet.” And Yuuri places them back down, gripping the comforter.

Viktor continues kissing down his leg while Yuuri’s chest heaves. Viktor places a kiss at his ankle, then down the front of his foot to his toes. He places a kiss at the bottom of his foot before pushing his toe in his mouth and sucking.

Yuuri gasps, his hips tilting. Viktor hums, and kisses down his foot again. “Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, breaks a little and Yuuri can’t help but think how he’s got him on is knees and just a little desperate without even touching him.

Yuuri flushes at the thought. He’s hard now, and he hasn’t even been touched either— not the way he _wants_. Not just yet. “Viktor please.”

Viktor is still kissing at his foot, sucking his toes. “What is it baby? I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Touch me.” Yuuri moans, and Viktor watches his hips buckle then places a final kiss to his foot.

Viktor puts him on his stomach so his ass is tilted in the air. His mouth trails down his back, over his ass while his hands ghost over Yuuri’s cock.

“Please.” He whines, grinding forward.

Viktor removes his hands. “Tell me Yuuri,” His knuckles brush up his spine. “Have you been a good boy?”

“Yes,” he hisses, pushing back.

Viktor hums. “Good boys should be rewarded.”

Yuuri’s panties are sliding down his thighs, but they’re still on, along with only one of his socks. His legs are trapped by them. Viktor slicks up his fingers and presses two into him. Yuuri bows back and whimpers wetly. Viktor’s fingers are hot and thick and wet pressing into him. Yuuri’s hands clench the sheets and pushes his hips back as his straps fall down his shoulders. Viktor starts to push his fingers in and out, twisting slightly.

After he’s three fingers filled, Viktor leans to his ear whispering, “I have something for you Yuuri.” He kisses a spot under his ear. “A gift.”

Yuuri nods and moans. Because he knows what it is. They’ve talked about this before, but never got around to it. And now he’s ready. He’s so ready.

Viktor doesn’t go far to get it. Yuuri only catches a flash of it but from what he can tell it’s not _too_ big. It’s clear and pretty.

Yuuri sucks the glass into his mouth. It tastes plain and it’s not at all cold like Yuuri thought it would be. Knowing what’s about to happen has his cock fattening up even more if possible.

Viktor pulls it from his mouth, a string of saliva coming with it momentarily before it breaks, then trains it over his ass, back and forth, adds more lube and finally  
presses in.

Yuuri gasps and moans and breaks.

His legs shake a little. It’s bigger than he thought, definitely bigger than Viktor’s three fingers. Yuuri tries to keep it down, tries to be a little quieter but he’s so full, so warm, he feels so so so much. Viktor tweaks a nipple through the lace and Yuuri gasps.

His bottom lip tastes of copper. He’s thrusting backwards, meeting each thrust, his eyes watering shamelessly. Viktor slaps his ass and he moans, “Please.”

He’s going to come. He’s held it in too long and his stamina is shot when he drinks. He feels it, his gut warming and tugging and,

A hand cups the base of his cock. Yuuri gasps, “No,” He bucks into Viktor’s hand desperately. “Viktor please. Please.”

Viktor twists the plug and angles it just so. Yuuri gasps, loudly, and bucks his hips. A tear falls down his cheek before he can will it away as he lets out another moan. “Viktor,”

“Hmm?”

“Viktor,” he says, desperate, as another tear falls and his hands clench the sheets. He’ll beg. He’ll plead. He’ll break over and over again for him  

Viktor withdrawals the plug then reaches for a condom.

“Don’t,” Yuuri tells him.

Viktor pecks his lips. “It’ll get messy.” He says lowly.

Yuuri licks his lips, then kisses him again. “That’s the point.”

Viktor actually blushes before he moves him to his back, slips his panties all the way off then lines up to take him. He adds more lube and rubs himself just a bit before finally, finally pushing in. It’s hot and tight and wet and Viktor has to take a moment when he’s finally inside to kiss Yuuri flushed so he can have some time _adjust_ and _not_ come after literally ten seconds.

“Viktor, move, please.” Yuuri begs and Viktor can’t turn him down when he’s like this. So pretty. So eager. Viktor slides almost all the way out then pushes back in, they both gasp out all the air from their chest. Viktor starts a rhythm then, pounding in and out in and out, breathing against Yuuri’s neck.

Yuuri grips his ass and Viktor pounds him harder. Viktor bites down on his neck while cupping his jaw. “I’m yours,” He says. “I love you. He can’t have you.”

Yuuri jolts. _‘Stupid.’_

As if Viktor can hear him, he stops and pulls back and looks down st Yuuri who tries to look as innocent as possible but it’s hard with when he’s flushed to his toes and full of Viktor’s cock.

Viktor pulls back for a moment then feels on the bed and finds Yuuri’s disregarded sock. He smirks as he ties it around Yuuri’s hands and places Yuuri’s hands are above his head.

“There.” Viktor says, then crashes his lips into his.

They start back up again Yuuri locks his ankles around his hips. It’s almost walking the line of too much, how Yuuri’s under him moaning and panting. He’s so wet and tight and completely at his mercy. Viktor’s gonna cum. It’s been a string of pulsing pleasure since first pushed in and he can’t hold it back anymore. Viktor’s going to come, but Yuuri isn’t. _‘Not yet,’_ Viktor decides.

Viktor holds the base of his cock again.

“Viktor—“ Yuuri whines, as soon as he realizes what’s happening.

Viktor comes in long pulsing strings. Yuuri gasps from it, the feeling of it, and grinds his hips, trying to get some friction on his cock. 

“Fuck,” Viktor groans as he empties into him. His cheeks are red along with his chest. He takes a moment to catch his breath, pulls out a whining Yuuri and pants back to reality. He looks down to Yuuri who’s still waiting, still hard and panting. His eyes are watered and his cock is impossibly red. Viktor leans down to kiss him, sucks his lip into his mouth and takes his cock into his hand.

“God,” Yuuri sobs, thrusting his hips up. “Please.” Viktor slowly jacks him, pulling the skin down. Yuuri keens and arches and _‘Fuckfuckfuck.’_

Viktor travels between his legs and licks at his reddened tip. He sucks at his cock a little then trails down, kissing at his thighs and his balls. Yuuri gasps with each kiss, trying and failing to keep still, especially when the grip on his cock is still hard.

His lips go over his entrance, lightly at first before he begins to suck and Yuuri’s hips buck again. “Oh _fuck_ ,” Yuuri swears. Viktor sucks it all out, licking his tongue inside, lapping his walls. Yuuri fists a hand in his mouth, biting down, his wrist still tied together.

“Viktor— Ahh!”

Viktor feels himself getting hard again, so quickly.

Yuuri has wanted to come since they first started. He feels it now, a tugging at his gut, his toes curling and warming and tingling and that feeling moving up his entire body. He’s taking deep breaths, deep, deep breaths when his orgasm crashes into him, full force. 

Yuuri comes with a sound that makes his throat crack, and his back arched almost painfully. It’s a white hot, mind numbing type of orgasm, Yuuri swears he sees stars for a moment. Once it passes, he collapses back to the bed, breathing deeply, trying to regain movement of his limbs. 

Viktor hovers over him, kissing his neck and chest, whispering sweet nothings in the dark. Viktor grabs at himself and starts to pull. Yuuri wants to help, but he’s so boneless, so worn out. All he can do is turn his head to Viktor’s wrist, the one holding him up, and suck at the skin there, licking and biting. Viktor’s eyes flutter shut as he thrusts into his hand and groans. A soft wet sound fills the room along with pants.

“Yuuri,” He gasps. “Yuuri, Yuuri, _Yuuri_.”

Viktor’s eyes peel open and Yuuri meets his eyes while his teeth are pulling at his wrist. Viktor’s hips buck and he’s coming, painting the upper half of Yuuri’s body covered in the lacy lingerie, groaning deep from his chest.

Viktor falls to the mattress next to him, breathing out.

“Shit,” He says. Yuuri turns to him, out of the socks bounded his wrist and breathes out. His head is rested on Viktor’s chest and he’s already falling asleep.

Viktor takes care of the clean up. And as much as it pains him, he replaces the lingerie with one of his shirts that fits a little larger on Yuuri’s frame. Once Viktor’s cleaned and in fresh clothes, he lays next to Yuuri on a pillow beside him and watches his husband curled up and start to fall asleep all over again.

Viktor wouldn’t get much sleep tonight. Not when it felt like he’d gotten Yuuri for the first time all over again.

Things weren’t perfect. They weren’t the way they used to be. But that was okay. That was what happens when you promise forever.

Viktor presses a kiss into his hair and mummers, “Forever.”

As if he can feel it too, Yuuri mumbles it back.

  
Yuuri wakes up first the next morning, ignoring the ache from various parts of his body.

He takes in the scene before him, the sunlight peaking through the window and Viktor asleep beside him and recalls last night before and finds himself deeply blushing. He can’t believe he actually wore it. He can’t believe they had sex like _that_.

Yuuri turns to his husband and watches him. He looks so much younger when he’s asleep. His hair his fanned over the pillow. His shirt is dipped down just a bit, so Yuuri can see the small freckles on his chest. His chest that breathes in and out, so steadily.

Yuuri leans in and nuzzles his nose. Viktor makes some incoherent mumbles before peeling his eyes open, blue iris soft in the sunlight. “Hey.” He says. 

“Hey.” Yuuri says, right back.

**Author's Note:**

> there’s an epilogue! if i upload it it’ll be like a series so? subscribe to meeeee ヾ(＠＾▽＾＠)ﾉ


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